Behind The Masks We Wear
by Missingartist
Summary: Takes place after the Reichenbach Fall. Sherlock is now in hiding with Molly as his only friend and comapanion. Will Sherlock push her away in the dark days ahead or will a relationship blossom? And will Sherlock every clear his name. R&R
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! This is a story inspired by Reichenbach Fall it a look in my opinion that should happen in the 3 season. In this story shows Sherlock heart so it may be a little OC-y but I will try and make him as Sherlocky as possible **

**Anyway please enjoy! **

The gentle squeak of wheels against the shiny waxed floor rang though out the deserted morgue, as two men dressed in blue scrub suits silently wheeled the gurney in followed by a bleak looking Mycroft Holmes and a scruffy looking John Watson. Molly walked out from behind the observation screen and up to the gurney the porters had left in the middle of the morgue before retreating from the death infested room, she glumly looked up at the two men and quickly glanced them over. They both look tired and sick, John looked 2 shades paler then usual and his clothes look wrinkled and dirty, Mycroft didn't look any better he had deep bags under his eyes and his suit which was always presentable had its collar undone and his tie crooked. Molly was no Sherlock Holmes but she could see the couple of hours had taken their toll on them. Automatically she unzipped the body bag that was on the cold metal table and pulled the top of the bag apart showing the lifeless face of the once great Sherlock Holmes. His black curly hair clung to his pasty white face, splatter of blood graced his elegant face and made the brutally reality of his death even more real. Molly closed her eyes to stop the tears from leaking out before she looked back up at the two men awaiting their reaction; she had been used to all kind of reaction in this job from anger to sad to even happy on some occasions. She watched as Mycroft's cold mask crumbled as a single tear escaped his eyes before he quickly wiped it away, Molly look over to John who had tears furiously running down his face as he look as his apparently dead friend, his eyes shifted to the shape autopsy instruments that laid to the side next to Molly.

John gulped "Are you sure his dead... this could just be one of his great tricks" he pleaded with her silently wishing that Sherlock would sit up and everyone was gonna jump out and yell surprise. "Please ..." he begged

The inner fight that was going on inside her head was enough to make her sick, all Molly's heart wanted to do was to tell the men of Sherlock great plan but she knew the danger it would put them into _"I can't tell them , can I ... no too much danger, Moriarty's too dangerous right now ... I'm gonna end up being killed I know it, I just know it ... It doesn't matter I don't have much of a life anyway... no one will miss me... at least I can die making a different trying to stop the vile man... I just don't count" _Molly let the tear run down her face a drop onto the floor at the thoughts that were running amuck in her head.

"I'm sorry John, he really is dead they check twice upstairs, he really is gone" Molly spoke softly to him.

John nodded and brushed the tears away from his face before regaining composer again, and began to walk out the room before casting one more fleeting look toward his best friend before quickly walking away.

Fresh tears erupted from her eyes as she watched Sherlock devastated friend exit the chilly morgue, Molly looked toward the other Holmes brother who was staring blankly at where John had just left. Molly felt sorry for him, Sherlock had told her all about his brothers betray last night while going through the plan with her, she couldn't control the sympathetic look the crept onto her face as she looked at him.

He stood for a couple of minutes staring into thin air while she busied herself preparing the fake autopsy she was going to perform.

"It was my fault you know" Mycroft spoke his voice thick with emotion.

"What is?" Molly spoke trying to sound as confused as possible at his words.

"Sherlock's death... I fed Moriarty that information I help with my own brother down fall"

Foot steeps echoed through the bare morgue as she walked back to the silver gurney "You tried to stop this horrible man, you didn't know what he was going to do... he played you, thats all, it wasn't your fault its Jim's... I mean Moriarty's." She said resting he hand on his arm hoping it would sooth him.

Mycroft's face harden and he looked down at the small women standing beside him "please send a copy of you report to my office if you will and me or John will contact you about Sherlock's funeral, I know you were... rather attached to him." he said gentle moving her hand off his arm and placing it by her side before turning to leave.

The automatic doors slide open with a quite woosh, Molly stood with her back to the door waiting for it to close when Mycroft's voiced pieced though the deafening silents

"Miss Hooper... thank you" he spoke before the door shut with another woosh and he was gone.

* * *

><p>Once Molly had check the whole floor and found she was complete alone as usual, she made her way back to the half dead man in her morgue. She removed one of Sherlock's arms from the body bag and carefully measure the colourless liquid out of the small plain brown bottle and gentle pushed the needle into the skin and slowly pressed the plunger down, to release the drug into his blood stream. Slowly pulling the needle from his body and placing and cotton ball onto the small wound, she busied herself by cleaning up the morgue and pulling together the fake autopsy report of Sherlock.<p>

A little while passed when Molly heard the movement of the plastic bag Sherlock laid in, she closed the finish file on Sherlock and made her way to the main section in of the morgue to see Sherlock sitting up and running his hand over his spring black while rapidity blinking his eyes trying to shrug off his drossiness.

The air from Molly's lungs seem to escape her mouth in a small gasp as ogled Sherlock slim but tones chest, the gasp alerted Sherlock to Molly presents.

"H..hey Sherlock um how are you feeling" Molly stammer out quickly looking at her shoes as her cheeks turn a bright red.

"Good... did the plan go as planned?" Sherlock asked pulling the zipper down on the body bag.

"Yes... everyone thinks you d..dead, are you sure you can't tell Mycroft or John their so upset... wooo Jesus Sherlock!" Molly said shielding her eye from the now complete naked Sherlock, who was now standing in all his glory in front of her.

"What?"

"Yo...your nak..naked!" she said her hands covering her eyes.

Sherlock looked down at himself and smirked back up at the shy pathologist. "hmmm where are my clothes Molly? We need to get out of here soon because the cleaning staff will be here in...15 minutes so let's hurry up shall we" He said in his usual bored tone.

"ahh yes..let me...I'll just..yeah" she spluttered running into her cubical to fetch his clothes that he had left with her earlier.

A smirk slowly crept onto Sherlock's face as he saw her make a hasty retreat into her office, moments later a slightly flustered Molly Hooper exited with Sherlock's freshly folded clothes in hand. She dropped the clothes onto the edge of the desk and practically run back into his office without as much as a glace in Sherlock's direction, causing Sherlock to smirk over the power he had on molly and felt another sensations surge though his chest it felt like ... pride? Pride that he was the only one that could make her turn into a blabbering school girl just by him simply being in her presents.  
>The curly haired detective ran his hands over his head trying to shake the thoughts from of his head, but winced slightly as he felt his dark locks being pulled away from the sticky dry blood that coated most of his face. He slip into the clean crisp suit and slide on his spare trade mark coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck , he look over toward the small lab at the end of the room and frown remembering the times John and him had spent there, just then a mouse-ish Molly walk out with her bag wrapped around her and jumper pulled tight against her body, knocking Sherlock out of his thoughts.<p>

"umm you ready?" Molly asked in a squeaky voice, Sherlock nodded followed Molly into the hall. "Are you coming with me?... I mean... what are you going to do?" Molly said sighing and frowning slightly at her nervous stammering.

"I will meet you at your house, leave your back door open and I will let myself in" the dark hair detective commanded before disappearing down the fire escape his coat bellowing behind him in the wind.

"_You sure can pick them Molly can't you_" she thought scowling herself, before pulling her key out and making her way out to her car to make her way home.

* * *

><p>Once Molly returned home and opened the back door, she tried to go about her normal routeing as much as possible knowing that someone would be watching her she feed Toby and started to prepared her and Sherlock's dinner. As the dinner cooked in the oven Molly took the opportunity to wash the scent of death from her body and help her get rid of most of the tension that she had developed in her body throughout the day. The smell of burning awakens Molly to the world around her causing her to jump out of the shower, with a large soft towel wrapped around her dripping wet body. Yanking the door to the oven, Molly was relieved to see the edge of the lasagne was burnt slightly; she gave a sigh of relief before standing up and turning round to come face to face with the tall dark detective. Grey eyes roamed over Molly slender form causing her a deep blush to move across her neck and cheeks. "Arghh Sherlock! Don't do that! You scared me too death" Molly exclaimed resting her hand on her rapidly beating heart. His eyes continue to roam her half naked body paying little attention to what she was saying. "I'm just gon..." she said her voice trailing off as she dashed out the kitchen, Sherlock's eyes following her all the way.<p>

"_Toned leg and arms... ideal fat ratio...perfectly formed breast what normal men would call round and firm...swan like neck ...long legs and a nicely shapes posterior and hour glass figure hmmm her body is amazing"_ Sherlock thought as he watched Molly's retreating form. _"I wonder if she looks better naked ha properly much better then Irene Adler the women was a thin as a twig... what the hell I have got to stop thinking about Molly and get my mind back to find Moriarty's men"_ Sherlock said once again shaking the thoughts from his head.

Molly came down a while later dressed in a long baggy top and leggings and her hair held up in a messy bun on the top of her head, her cheeks where still a rosy pink. Sherlock was standing in the living room surveying his surroundings.

"Sherlock is everything okay" she asked sweetly before relishing how stupid her question was.

"Well everyone I hold dear thinks I'm dead and the whole world thinks I'm a fraud Molly! How do you think I feel?" Sherlock spat at her and as soon as the word had left his mouth he regret it. He watched as the emotion flicked across her face before she turn on her heel sharply and walk into the kitchen, he could her preparing her meal with almost a violent force which made him wince at his mistake.

An hour later Molly re-entered the living room to see Sherlock laying on the sofa in his thinking pose. "Sherlock the food in the microwave if feel hunger later...Sherlock?"

Molly walk round her sofa to crouch down beside Sherlock and curiously moved his curls from in front of his eyes "Sherlock?" turned his face to hers and open his eyes slowly, Molly nearly gasp as she saw the hurt and the pain in his eyes before they quickly become cold again.

"Molly I'm sorr..."

"Sherlock don't apologise... I know you're hurting.. you have to hide away from all your friends and family...but I am not going to be your door stop" she said her facing harding ever so slightly at the end.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly trying to figure out what had happen to the sweet Molly in the last couple of months, she stood up looked down at the moody detective.

"Let's find you somewhere to sleep, you look exhausted" Molly spoke softly taking in the dark circle underneath his eyes and the tired look in his eyes.

"Their no bed in the guestroom...so I suppose you can have my bed and I'll sleep down here" she said more to herself then Sherlock.

"Molly you don't have too I don't sleep much, I'm sure the sofa will be adequate"

"No Sherlock it okay you too long for the sofa and it isn't the comfiest at the best of time and m sure you don't want to face you next's arch enemy with a bad back." She giggled at her ramblings.

Sherlock frowned, the truth was that Sherlock didn't want her bed; he wanted to show to Molly how thankful he was that she was there for him in his hour of need.

"Molly you can't give up you bed, if someone realise you have been sleeping on the couch it may blow my cover"

She frowned for a minute before smiling back down at him "we can both sleep in my bed it's more than big enough for the both of us... I mean there.. you know" she stammered trying to back step from what she just said.

Looking down at the stony faced man laying on her sofa she sighed and took a deep breath and slowly spoke "the beds a Californian king so theirs lots of room and it will do till tomorrow till you find out what you're going to do"

"I don't need sleep, I can't sleep! I need to figure what I'm going to do" Sherlock whined while sitting up and running hand though his hair.

"Arghhh" Molly moaned in frustration and put her hand on her hips "There no point arguing with me, you won't be able to think properly you've just faked you death to save the people you love and any plan you make now could put you in danger and them not to mention... I didn't just sign my own death warrant by helping you so you can run around and get killed so just go up stairs and get ready for bed" anger emitting every word.

Silvery eye peek out from his curly mop, at the girl in front of him, Molly was breathing deeply and her cheeks started to turn a deep red "oh my god...I'm...I'm...I'll just.." she said choking on her words then quickly scurrying out the room and up the stairs.

Starring after her, Sherlock could help but be mildly shocked; Molly had only talk to him like that on 2 occasions but had never talked with so much stubbiness, passion and anger in her voice before. He stood up and quietly made his way up the stairs and went in the direction he heard Molly go to and skilfully glided into the room without making a noise. Molly was laying at the end of the massive bed, curled around a long thick pillow her back to Sherlock her eyes wide open looking out the window to the starry night. Neatly folded PJ set where on the pillow further away, Sherlock grabbed them and glance over Molly once again then turned and walk in to the en suite to change.

* * *

><p>The light from the moon illuminated the room as Sherlock re-entered, he was dressed in a slightly big plain white vest and plaid bottoms, Sherlock had deduce they were from possible a male family member properly her father or brother due to her lack of romantic entanglements . Molly was still facing away from him as he slipped under the thick duvet, he knew she wasn't asleep by the way her body was still tense and her breathing was uneven. He laid down facing her back and watched her for a couple of minute before speaking.<p>

"Molly... did you mean what you said before?" he said his brows knitting together

"Mean what?"

"That you signed your own death warrant for helping me" Sherlock said his voice barely above a whisper.

Molly sighed and remained with her back to him "Yes I do...When Moriarty or god know who find out I helped you they are gonna kill me... I knew the risk I was taking when I helped you, I'm not stupid... I'm a dead women walking...It doesn't matter... know no one will miss me... it okay though I don't have much to live for" she spoke her voice thick with emotion, her eyes watered in the moon light, but no tears escaped them. "Good night Sherlock" Molly said into the darkness of the room, this time her voice was back to her usual cheery tone.

He frowned, wishing he could comfort Molly to easy the strange feeling of guilt that started to develop in his chest, Sherlock let his eye linger on Molly's form his frown turning into a grimace and let sleep envelope him in it enticing embrace, his last thought echoed throughout his head "_How Wrong Have I Got Molly Hooper_"

**Soooo how'd I do... Yeah I know it sucks I will properly go back a change this chapter a lot later on this is just a setting the scene kind of chapter the next one will be way better. I know this is a typical Molly Hooper character but I just want people to see a different side to her. Now I know this chapter is terrible but I really want to carry this story on but I'm not sure if I should do in the style of a full story or just a bunch of one-shot so please comment and tell me what you think **

**M For Later Chapters**

**PLEASE REVIEW! And make my day **


	2. Chapter 2

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARATER IN SHERLOCK!**

**OMG THANK YOU! I would have never thought this story would get on review let alone 8 and thank you for everyone who favoured and alerted this story it inspired me so much XD so here the second Chapter I hope you enjoy**

"_**Bushes and branches grazed and tore at Molly body and clothes as she ran through the wilderness, the sound of heavy footstep breaking twigs and leafs on the woodland floor coming from behind her. She knew it would come to this, her running for her life in the cold dark woods from a deranged criminal genius with a gun. Tears running down her cheeks she kept on running, she ran into a large opening where 5 figures stood. Sherlock, Mycroft, John, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson stood in a line facing Molly, she stop and stared at them for a split second before sprinting towards Sherlock who stood in the middle of everyone. **_

"_**Sherlock! You've got to help me..Moriarty co.." Molly rushed but stopped once she noticed they weren't responding.**_

"_**HEY Sherlock? ...John?" Molly weaved between the people waving and shouting at them before she realised they were looking right through her. **_

"_**I don't count" her voice echoed through the trees "I don't matter" Molly fell to the ground her hands buried in her face, crying hysterically, her whole body shaking.**_

_**She felt like she had laid on the ground for what felt like an eternity before she heard the sound of someone approaching rapidly, knowing who it was, Molly draw herself up and stood on her two shaky legs and squared her shoulders, took several deep breaths and kept her eyes looking straight ahead. She knew if she kept on running it would only delay the inevitable so why prolong the agony of the chase.**_

_**The bushes began to tremble and move as someone passed through, the cold metallic gun shone brightly in the dark light of the woods as in emerged first follow by the hand, then the arm then the head of a grinning Moriarty.**_

"_**Ahhhh Molly, not running I see...tut tut you disappointing me, I'd thought you'd be running for your sad pathetic life and begging me to let you live" he said pacing around in a small patch of grass in front of her waving the black gun around as he walked**_

"_**You're wrong Moriarty...I won't beg for my life, I won't give you the satisfaction" she said in a semi strong, her voice growing in strength with every word she spoke.**_

"_**Well well well it looks like we got a fighter on our hands" he giggling manically. "Do you think Sherlock and his group of merry men are going to swoop down and save you? then you and Sherlock are going to get married and have a bunch of brainy but socially shy kids? That never gonna happen" he swiftly pulled the gun up and aimed it at her chest "You don't count Molly..your just a faceless prawn in our grand game...no one cares...no one will miss you. Sad isn't it 29 years of life what have you got to show for it nothing hahaha I wonder how many people will go to you funeral hmmmmm? Well let's find out shall we"**_

_**He fired a single shot into her chest causing her to crumble onto the ground, blood spilling out of her the bullet hole. Molly looked up and saw the faces of Mycroft, John, Sherlock, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and Moriarty starring emotionless down at her watching her die.**_

Molly woke gasping for air, sweat pouring down her face and silent tears running down her cheeks. She closed her eyes willing the tears away as she did, she felt herself being pulled into a strong but safe embrace. A soft moan escaped her lips as she was enveloped in a delicious warmth, she skilfully turnover to look at her protector she could help but suck in a breath as she looked as a strangely peaceful Sherlock Holmes.

The last 24 hour came flooding back to her the meeting with Sherlock, the plan, the fake autopsy, talking to poor John and Mycroft, letting him into her home and having and very passionate agreement with him and Molly basically telling Sherlock he killed her.

_"Ohhhh god dammit Molly kick a man while his down... not that he'll actually care if I die_" She though mental scowled herself.

Looking at Sherlock once again she couldn't help but think about how beautiful he was while he was sleeping and not running around her morgue with a riding crop, his mild going a thousand miles minute. Molly sat there for a while gazing at the angel like Sherlock before she noticed the time on her wall "5:32 I better get ready for work"

Carefully she tried to worm herself out from his vice like grip but he keep moaning and pulling her closer to him, sighing in defeat before Molly trying again, this time replace her small body with the pillow she was using the night before. He groaned and frown a bit before burying his heading it, giving a sigh of content as he breath in her scent.

A small giggle escapes her lips as she heading into the bathroom to wash all evidence of her pervious nightmare away.

* * *

><p>Sherlock's snapped open and he bolted up in bed his eyes scanning the unfamiliar room, light green room and had dark furniture and a plush soft carpet. "<em>Dark antique furniture oak possible Willow... Plain decoration simple but elegant<em>" he thought taking note of the nature stencil on the walls giving the room an almost foresty look. Sherlock got out of the bed and started to walk around the room observing his surroundings "_Expensive furniture and decorations ... the bed is at least...£5000 a bit too expensive for a pathologist, Large Jewellery box hinges seem to have broken but it hasn't been replaced deduce =sentimental value_." He opened the box to find it stuffed with an array of jewels. "hmmmm real jewellery" he muttered and began to examine the room once again"_ album and book filling the shelf...curiosity hmmm, boxes hidden under the bed... i'd say from high-priced clothing and underwear stores ha very interesting_" he continued to look around the room till he heard noise coming from the en suite.

Just then a refreshed Molly walked out in a short robe, a fluffy towel in hand drying her hair. "ohhh Sherlock...I a didn't think you'd be awake" she blushed.

"Obliviously" he said in his rich smooth voice, looking her up and down, admiring the view.

The blush turned brighter when she noticed Sherlock eyeing her up, she shuffled down to the end of the room and rummaged through the cupboards for her clothes of the day. Sherlock watched her searched her wardrobe looking at clothes that were blatantly too big for her, his eyes court sight of something that intrigued his attention. He moved up to the wardrobe and yanked the last double door open to reveal the other half of the large cupboard that was filled with more tighter and figure hugging clothes.

A wide eye Molly cautiously watched the detective comb through the large cluster of clothes pulling out various bit of it, and flung them over his arm. "Here" he thrust them into her arms "wear this it will hug your figure and make you look taller" he order before walking out of the room.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Molly re-entered her room a little while later fully dressed in a black pencil skirt and a blue silk blouse tucked into it, the suit jacket was button up showing her flat stomach and breasts, and her shiny 2 inch heel felt comfy on her feet so she could walk around in them and they gave her an extra boost of height that she need. She had put light make-up on, more for Sherlock benefit then her own.

Walking slowly down stairs she heard the radio blasting out loud from the kitchen "The online detective genius Sherlock Holmes fell to his dead early yesterday morning..." she swiftly walked in and turned it off, earning a glare from Sherlock who was reading the newspaper, him the first page star.

"I was listening to that, that was very rude" Sherlock said with a slight angry edge to his voice.

"There no point sitting there reading all this tabloid rubbish and brooding" she said giving him a pointed look.

He put the paper down and admired his handy work. "You look...nice" he said ogling her form.

She blushed slightly at this unusual comment "It a bit smarter then I usually wear but I'm sure no one with notice...did you want something to eat before I leave?"

Sherlock smirked at her comment _"you course people will notice, your beautiful Molly" _he thought himself _"She's delectable...What The Hell! Pull yourself together... this is Molly...but she does look sexy..Get a grip man_" he said slapping himself mentally.

"No Molly" he spoke in a flat tone

"Well umm okay" Molly said fidgeting in the door way "Fill free to look around the house...well you'd do that even if I told you not to" she said in a cheery tone. "there are some spare clothes of Nigel's upstairs in the guest room at the back of the house that I think will fit you ...if you need something tell me when I get home and I'll see what I can do about it" smiling genteelly at him. "I'll be back at 3ish but if their rush on at the morgue then I'll be back later...Okay?"

Sherlock nodded to but said nothing he continued to stare at her, Molly continued to fidget under his heated gaze for a few seconds before quickly dashing to the door not wanting to be late to work and cause any suspicion to be cast in her direction.

Leaving a very confused Sherlock behind who was in need of a deep think.

* * *

><p>Once she had arrived she put on her clean lab coat on and got to work clean and preparing her lab for her next cadaver, when she received a rather unexpected text from Mycroft.<p>

**I will be coming to pick up Sherlock autopsy report myself, later on in the day. Hope you are well MH**

Molly didn't reply, just carried on wheeling out her next patient.

* * *

><p>By the time Mycroft arrived Molly had just finished working on her patient and was putting him back in the cold storage box, her face away from the door and her lab coat thrown to the side as she was getting ready to leave for lunch.<p>

"Good morning... Miss Hooper?" he questioned viewing the mysterious girl from behind.

She turn around quickly to a completely surprised Mycroft "Miss Hooper...you look different I hardly recognised you" he said eyeing her up and down. Molly looked down at her close and gulped.

"Good morning Mr Holmes..." she said in a shy but cheery voice "My working clothes are all dirty ... so I had to make do with these... I um know I'm a bit over dress but.." she said he voice trailing off as she saw he was looking at her with a weird expression. "_Ahhh does he know... does he know?"_

Mycroft tilted his head to the side try to take all of her in before giving her a weak smile "It is okay Miss hooper... you look amazing" this causing Molly blush furiously.

"Ummm thank you...how are you feeling today" her voice laced with tenderness and care.

He stared at her for a couple of seconds before snapping out his stupor "I am fine... thank you Miss Hooper and you?" his voice sounder generally concerned, not his usual cold mechanical voice.

"I am good...it just a little hard to believe Sherlock gone...I keep expecting to walk through the door." Molly.

"Ah yes I feel the same... keep expecting to get a text from some tell me that he's been arrested on one of his cases." Mycroft giving a small deep chuckle at the end as he remember his late brother.

The small brunette gave him a sad smile before giving him the folder that contained the autopsy results, which were sitting on a table at the side of her. He nodded thanks to her, turning away as he read some of the content before snapping it close.

"Thank you Miss Hooper...I hope to see you again" he said, turning on heels and exiting the morgue.

Molly's eyebrow scrunched together thinking about his un-Mycroft behaviour, shaking her head she walked into her office to collect her suit jacket and bag ready to go to lunch.

* * *

><p>Static field the air of Molly's kitchen as Sherlock fiddled with knobs of the radio, he had sat in the roomy kitchen listening to every piece of news from every different station he could find. Throwing the radio onto the floor he ruffled his hair in frustration and started to rock and gripping his hair tightly, thinking about what he'd be doing back at the flat. He smirk remember how John got so anger with him when he shoot at the wall once, he frown remember all the time he a spent with John solving cases and just plain annoying him most of the time.<p>

The dark haired detective sighed and moved to the livng room were Molly laptop was still running it global search for Moriarty's men, while Sherlock paced behind the sofa try to think of a distraction. "Oh of course...Molly" he shouted into the empty room.

Racing upstairs be began his new deduction of Molly, he started in the back guest room and slowly worked his way through the top floor.

"_Draw for of men's clothes..dated 5 years maybe...for a young man so properly her brother more then a lover due to Molly , must have so sentimental value for her to hang on to them. This must be a kind of hobby room due to the grand piano and oil paint stains on the walls and wooden floor"_. He carried on moving from room to room

"_Bottle of luxurious oil and moisturisers un-opened and layer of dust collecting on them must be a present...Lot of personal products that half empty so she spends a lot of time looking after her body... she keep her stuff organised but messy hmmm... room recently cleaned.. vacuum marks and polish resin was left other her last clean, resins still stick so within the last 3 days...the area has a clean but fruity smell...quite pleasant that properly what gives Molly her alluring scent mmmm..."_ he thought holding the pillow his woke up holding and pulling it to his nose and snorted the scent like it was kind of drug.

Growling at his momentary lapse in his cold exterior, Sherlock carelessly throw the pillow over toward the en suite before falling onto the soft carpet with his legs crossed. He sat there for a while thinking of his next step when a shiny box under the luscious bed the peaked his curiosity, he pulled the many box from deep underneath the bed and placed them around him.

One by one he opened them up and pulled the garments out the box, inspecting them before tossing them over his shoulder and moving onto the next one, which was a black and pink baby doll with matching panties and garter belt. "This will look lovely on Molly her hour glass figure would perfectly fill out this bodice and her... Dammit!" he court himself before his train of thought could go any thither.

He continued analysing every inch of her room before collecting a pile of books and albums from the shelf before climbing onto the messy, unmade bed and laying them out in front of him and pulling them open. His mind was bombarded with images of Molly life, as he moved on from book to book he learnt more and more about Molly that he would think was possible. Picture of Molly are Parties and social advents laughing and dancing with people, her standing with what seemed like her family her Mum, Dad, her and two older sisters inside a room like looked liked it belonged to a stately home. Sherlock took in every picture, seeing a side of Molly that he'd neither seen before, the Molly was confident and cheeky with an attitude as he could see by the way she dressed differently from her family and their friends. Sherlock noticed a few people other than a family cropping up in a lot of the photos, a man in his early 20s with hair a similar length to Sherlock's but dirty blond and straight, he had a strong build and high cheek bones he was the type that women would die for. There was all so a group of girls that keep creeping up in the photos and one very obvious gay man. But then suddenly around the time when the picture moved to the time her and her friend going to university the man disappeared, and the women in the picture gradually turn into the Molly Hopper he knew today.

Sherlock let himself fall into the feather soft mattresses his final deduction solved

"Molly Hooper, shy but cheery pathologist is not who she prevents to be" he said out loud a smile plastering his face.

* * *

><p>Molly slammed the door closed as she entered her house; she had finished her work and was able to leave work on time for once. Her day was very boring, she only had 2 bodies today so she spend most of the day catching up on paper work. She had sent a text to John after lunch but got no reply, she called Miss Hudson who told her John had locked himself in his room and wouldn't anwser the door. Molly debated going round to check on him but decided that it would be better if she let him have a few days mourning before going round to see him.<p>

As she moved further inside her home, dreading what damage Sherlock may have caused remembering the tales John had told her about his wacky experiments and using the living room wall as target practise. She notice as she went deeper into the house looked like it had been ransacked. Books and magazines lay on the floor along with picture frames and various other nick-knacks she had, moving from room to room she took note of all the thing Sherlock had destroyed or tossed onto the floor.

"_Broken Radio...Vase smashed...Upside down picture..Books tosses carelessly to the floor...Water on floor...Fridge wide open...Clothes hamper emptied...Shatter makeup bottles..Stain on carpet"_ she put her hands on her hips as she finished surveyed her house "_Well no permeated damage_" she smiled and shook her head at his childish antics.

"Sherlock!" she shouted into the eerily quiet house "Sherlock?" she asked, hoping the tall detective was still here and not running around London in broad daylight.

She pushed the door to her bedroom open to reveal the curly haired detective laying in log position in the middle of her bed, his hand pressing translucent patches hard into his forearm. She eyed an empty box at the bed, picking it up she saw it was a box nicotine patches. "Where on earth did you get this?" she questioned holding the box up in the air.

"Next door left them in his bedroom so I broke in a borrowed a few" he explained as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

"What!..you just...thats not" Molly stuttered before sighing knowing it was no use telling Sherlock he could just break into other people house for Nicoret patches.

She ran her eyes over the rest of the room and gasped violently her eye wide open as she saw the boxes secretly hidden under her bed where lying open and the underwear that saw concealed in them, carelessly tossed on the floor. Molly now started to bush a deep red at the thought of Sherlock going though her secret stash of underwear.

"Sherlock why have you...?" she asked nervously unable to finish her question.

"ahh Molly" he smirked at her has he moved closer to her"I was just trying to solve you dear Molly... But it seems you've been holding back on me..you naughtily little girl," he smirk looking at the underwear that littered the floor "fooling everyone into think your this sweet, innocent women when all along you have this..sexy confident side that you've never shown, I wonder why that is hmmmmm" He said ,his voice almost purring as he made his way over to her. "You have all this luxury but you still show everyone the plain, frumpy little girl"

Molly opened her mouth a few times speechless as she stared up at his smug face. "Molly stop impersonating a fish it very unattractive, maybe that why that man in those pictures left you ..._**Thuwack" **_Sherlock grabbed his face in shocked, "_Molly had slapped him, him Sherlock Holmes"_

"Don't you dare Sherlock... just don't" Molly spoke fighting back tears "you have no idea what you're talking about" Molly growled "I.. I can't take this..I'm going ... to..to cook dinner" she said tears slowly leaking from her eyes.

The blabbering women swiftly ran from the room leaving a still shock Sherlock behind "what have I done, I have upset Molly... If only I had John to talk to about these stupid emotional matters...Dame how am I going to make it up to her...I need her"

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><p>Molly stood in front of the stove angrily stirring the chicken round the pan as it cooked, when she heard Sherlock enter the kitchen. "Molly...I know I'm not the easiest person to live with, but I am..."<p>

"Sherlock don't apologise... you don't mean it so don't bother, you're only doing it so I will keep helping you." Molly said her voice edged with bending down to get the salad out of the fridge, causing Sherlock to crank his neck to look at the view. She pulled the ingredient in to a large bowl the and placed it on the dining table, she sat down, placing a generous amount of chicken salad onto each plate before pouring the sauce on then digging into her own food.

Sherlock pushed his food around the plate and pouted his lips as he sulked, Molly looked up at Sherlock through her lashes, smiling slightly at how adorable he looked, but after 10 minute he began to come increasingly annoying as he huffed and puffed.

She knew she could never stay mad at him or deny him anything so she decide to put herself and Sherlock out of their misery "Look Sherlock I'm still really angry at you for going through my personal stuff and being such an uncaring git...but you are welcome to stay as long as you need to..you need to stop this madness before more innocent people get hurt..." her eyes silently pleading with him.

Sherlock nodding emotionlessly, before leaning across the table and giving her a lingering kiss on the cheek and walking out the kitchen, leaving a very giddy and happy woman behind him.

**Soooo what does every one think? I know I'm in desperate need of a beta so if anyone would like to help with that I'd be super happy :) in the next couple of chapter there should be Sherlock funeral, a sad John and some good old sherlocky action XD so please stay tuned XD**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Heyxx I would just like to thank everyone who review last chapter they really make my day, I also love to thank Maharet230 for beta-ing this chapter and helping me improve it for all my lovely readers. :)**

**I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK! i just wish i did **

**Sooo any way here's the next chapter XD hope you enjoy**

Molly raised her black steaming mug of coffee to her mouth, as she sat in her kitchen the morning of Sherlock's funeral, dressed in tight black boot leg trousers, a long white blouse, a wrap round leather jacket and flat heeled boots that Sherlock had picked out for her. He'd been picking her clothes every day since he had been staying with her, and she had to say that he had fantastic taste. She had been getting looks and comment from her co-worker and random people all week.

A small giggle escaped her lips as she thought back over the past week with the genius detective; they had fallen into a sort of weird routine, Molly would awake around 5ish to have Sherlock's arms possessively locked around her, after swapping herself with a pillow she would shower and come out to find her days clothes lying on the bed. Once she was dressed she'd make her way downstairs to find Sherlock reading the newspaper or fiddling with her laptop. While she went to work, Sherlock researched and investigated, when she came home she would cook them dinner, have a fight usually about the poor man living next door who thought he was losing his mind because Sherlock was stealing his thing, before going to bed ready for the next exciting day.

Grimacing at the clock, she sat her cup down in the sink as she made her way out of the house, stopping outside her living room she saw Sherlock buried in his work. She decided not to tell Sherlock she was going, knowing it would upset him, quickly and silently she exited her house, and got into the already waiting cab.

Arriving at the cemetery she noticed a small group of people huddling under the door way of the massive church trying to avoid the drizzle in the air, she saw a few people she knew Lestrade, Mycroft, John and Mrs Hudson, running over to the shelter of the church she slide in beside Mrs Hudson who was heavily crying into a handkerchief. John and Lestrade looked up at the new arrival taking a few second to recognise the person.

"Molly?" John asked with tired eyes.

"Oh hey John, how are you" she said giving him a small hug, which the old shy Molly would have never of done "_Living with Sherlock must have given her back some of her lost confidence_." She thought

"I've been better...how about you? You look...different" John asked her still holding onto her arms.

"Yeah I'm good...I decided to throw my ratty clothes away" she said giving him a sad smile.

John nodded just as the hearse pulled up carrying what people thought to be Sherlock but was really an unidentified tramp that looked somewhat similar to Sherlock. John gulped as the coffin was lifted in to the church by the pallbearers.

What Molly guessed was Sherlock parents went in first with Mycroft followed by Angelo, and a small number Scotland Yard officers including Lestrade, Donavan and Anderson. Molly hung back with John, who looked fearful of going into the church.

She wrapped her small hand round his and gave him a smile "Come on John, you need to do this if you don't you'll just regret it" she spoke softly to him. He gave a nod and squeeze her hand tight before walking in to the gloomy hand in hand, unnoticed to them they were being watched by a scarfed figure.

* * *

><p>The funeral was small and simple the vicar said a few meaningless words about Sherlock before Angelo, Lestrade and Mycroft went up and spoke about the apparently dead detective, there words truly moved Molly as they spoke about their lost friend and brother, John had wanted to go up but he just couldn't. Molly sat in the second row of pews comforting a blubbering Mrs Hudson and John while Sherlock's parents and brother sat in front of them, the mother crying heavily and the father holding her to him with a blank expression on his face. She noticed Mycroft keep glancing back at her and John would give him a hardened glare before Mycroft return his attention back to the service.<p>

Angel like singing echoed throughout the church as the coffin was slowly lowered down, making everyone in the room breakout in fresh tears. Once the service was over Sherlock parents drove away immediately after the service , Mycroft lingered for a while talking to people and briefly visited his brother's grave where his family decide to lay his ashes to rest.

The trio walked up to the grave and watched as they said good-bye to their friend, Mrs Hudson scurried away her hanky rubbing under her eyes. John stood in front of the marble tomb stone tears running down his face.

Molly squeezed his arm comfortingly "I'm here for you John whenever you need me, I'm always free okay" John nodded his eyes not moving from the gravestone.

Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek she sighed as she began to walk down the overgrown path, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's lives being messed around with and she couldn't even tell them that the man they admired so much was alive and well, living in her house, sharing her bed.

Sliding her phone out of her trouser pocket she dialed for a cab to pick her up, after a rather short conversation she shoved her phone back into her pocket and decide to walk around the cemetery till it arrived.

* * *

><p>Sherlock hid in the shadow of the trees that were on a small hill in the cemetery, giving him a perfect view of the church and his burial plot. He miraculously managed to get there before Molly arrived and was able to watch his grieving family and friends.<p>

As soon as Molly arrived, Sherlock felt anger and some unknown emotion raise in his chest as he saw several men and one women look at her like she was a piece of meat, even at this distance he could see the lust in their faces. Sherlock kept his temper in check not wanting to break the facade that he had created by marching over to the small group and tearing them limb from limb, but he was sure someone would notice him.  
>He watched as Molly hugged and held on to John, he felt a rage fill inside of him like never before as John held his Molly's hand.<p>

"_Wait his Molly...when did Molly become his? It was implausible! He was the world's only consulting detective, married to his work, a robot that everyone but a select few tried to avoid at all costs... And Molly was one of the few She had unquestionable faith in him even when those around lost theirs... Maybe I really am falling for Molly"_ he thought, before shoving the ridiculous idea out of his head. _"I'm spending too much time in Molly's company. I am becoming soppy"_

He watched as the small group of 30 entered the church, once they had all left he let his mind wonder the past week he had spent at Molly's

* * *

><p><strong>A spluttering car driving past Molly's house early one morning woke Sherlock up; he was shocked to find his arm around Molly in a spooning position that he'd seen this position before in several of the sappy romances they saw when he'd tagged along on John's dates. He watched as the peaceful Molly snuggled her back into his chest and pulled his hands towards her heart. He closed his heavy eyes as he held her, his chaotic mind going blank as he listened to her steady heartbeat, and let himself fall into a light doze. After a while he felt Molly begin to stir from her sleep, she gently untangled herself from him and slid her pillow into his arms "<em>that's how I wake up hugging a pillow every morning<em>" he thought as she made her way into the bathroom. You'll notice I've changed the sentence from "He closed his heavy eyes" onwards a bit. I like this section – but changed it to make it flow smoothly. You used letting twice and that felt just a little bit clunky. I love the scene though. Only thing I'd suggest adding in is: How does Sherlock feel apart from shocked? Just a little hint. Is he curious about waking up with her like this? Concerned? Revolted? Turned on? What changes in him so that, instead of being shocked, he stays where he is and dozes off? **

* * *

><p>"<strong>Sherlock I'm leaving" Molly called out as she moved down the hall picking up various items that she would need throughout the day at work. She opened the living room door to find him hunched over her bright pink laptop in his pyjamas, typing furiously into onto the keyboard with his silver eyes scanning the small script on the screen.<strong>

"**I'm going to work, did you hear me? Molly asked, adjusting the bag on her arm.**

**He continued to ignore her; his eyes fully focused on the screen in front of him. "Sherlock? I'm leaving" **

**Sherlock snapped his head in her direction and glared at her "Yes Molly I am very aware that you are leaving. Thank you, Bye!" he spat before turning back to the laptop. Molly frowned, her shoulder sagging at the tone of his voice, she turn on her heels and flow out the door, slamming it behind her.**

**The shock from the door slamming sent vibrations through the house causing him to wince "_Great! I've upset Molly...again_" he thought before forcing his mind back on to the work in front of him.**

**Molly dropped her bag on the hall table and looked around the darkness that enveloped the house; she saw the dim glow through the crack of the living room door. She quietly slipped into the room to see her laptop downloading some type of program whilst Sherlock lay passed out on the sofa, his dark locks clinging to his face and his mouth slightly parted as soft snores escaped his lips. Molly giggled quietly to herself as she looked at the sleeping detective.**

**Carefully draping a thick throw-cover over the sleeping Sherlock, Molly made her way to the kitchen. She made herself and Sherlock a sandwich making sure to pile the calories into his know he'd be needing them someday soon. She skillfully wrapped his up in Clingfilm, pulling a can of drink from the fridge, placed it on top on the table next to the laptop with a note, before quickly scoffing her sandwich down and making her way to bed.**

**Sherlock woke a little while later wrapped in the warmth of a thick blanket. Rubbing his sore eyes he looked round the dark room, catching sight of the sandwich Molly had left him. He picked up the scruffy note and held it close to his face.**

_**Sherlock**_

_**I made a sandwich for you to eat when you wake up. Please eat it; you haven't touched your food for the last 3 days. So please eat it for me xx**_

**He placed the note back into the oak table and ripped the protective wrapping off the plate; he quickly devoured the sandwich and greedily gulped down the fruit flavoured drink more for Molly then himself. He stood up re-reading the note Molly had left before discarding it in the nearby rubbish bin, wondering how someone like him deserved someone as kind and loyal as Molly to stand by him.**

* * *

><p>The sound of the large wooden door creaking open woke Sherlock from his thoughts, he watched as the small crowd flooded out of the church and small groups of people made their way to his grave to pay their respects. He carefully observed his best friend and his landlady as they stood with Molly by the graveside, saying their good byes. <em>"Seem understandably distressed all three pairs of eyes red and puffy, Mrs Hudson makeup is badly smudged and John looks unwell….he has lost a stone in the past week" <em>Sherlock calculated before turning his attention to Molly _"Surprisingly my Molly is a good little actress….Wait! What?...this is getting ridiculous I need to get this sorted out.. although my Molly does sound very appealing..arghhh_" Sherlock thought, trying to focus his attention back to the mourning group by his grave, instead of the ludicrous thoughts running round his head.

Mrs Hudson scurried away, leaving John and Molly alone. He watched them carefully as Molly comforted the mourning John. Sherlock felt thankful that Molly was there to comfort him now that he was officially dead until he could find out if Moriarty was dead and his men were all imprisoned. A growl rumbled through Sherlock's chest as he saw her lean up and plant a kiss on John's cheek "Did I just growl at Molly kissing John..this has got to stop…." he scowled watching as Molly walked back to the church and pulled her phone out.

Standing in the in the shadows, he kept his eye on John, watching as he broke down at the graveside. Sherlock stayed for another couple of minutes before it became unbearable to watch, he gave one more fleeting look to John before disappearing into the shadows

* * *

><p>Molly arrived home to an empty house, moving from room to room looking for any sign of Sherlock, her laptop was laying closed on her coffee table, his dirty pyjamas that he had been wearing all week laid on her bedroom floor and his trade mark coat and scarf were missing along with the curly haired detective. She collapsed on her bed, her face buried in her hands and her mind racing, trying to think what to do next. With Sherlock now gone, she was completely vulnerable to attack.<p>

An hour later Molly entered the kitchen with a makeshift plan in her head, she shakily poured herself a cup of coffee re-running the plan through her head "If I can keep a low profile and get all my arrangements sorted I should be okay before I get gunned down or worse….Oh lord what happens if I get kidnapped and tortured…" she felt herself pale as she thought of all the things that could happen. She felt her world crashing around her as everything she had done in the past week became more realistic.

On unstable legs, Molly made her way into the living room carrying the steaming cup of coffee. Stepping into the room, a gasp escaped her lips and she dropped her cup of coffee causing it to shatter on the floor. Sherlock lay sprawled out on her sofa in his shirt, sleeves rolled up showing off his nicotine patches. He lifted his head to give Molly a questioning look.

"W..what a..are you do…ing here" Molly stuttered, still in shock

"I am living here at the moment - that is if you're not throwing me out" he said cocking his perfectly shaped eyebrows.

"No! Of course not…I thought you l…left" she said bending down, picking the remains of her cup from the hard wooden floor and disposing of it in the nearby bin. "Where d..did you go?"

"My funeral" he said, giving her a manic like grin

Molly froze as she hovered over Sherlock, mouth wide open. "You went to your own funeral?…seriously"

His cold steel eyes shifted up at her, still smiling "Of course...when would I get another chance to see my funeral?"

"But..how…why" Molly huffed, annoyed, before flopping down on to the plush love seat, her body humming with anger and frustration.

"There is no need to get your little head so flustered Molly"

"Sherlock, for god's sake, you've got to take this seriously! You can't just walk out of the house dressed in your coat and scarf, someone could have recognised you! And then everything would be messed up…Do you even understand how bad that would be? Moriarty and god knows who else will be crawling out of the woodwork to get back at you…and then there's what I sacrificed for you….I'm going to die and I'm not ready yet!" she said her voice become thick with emotion and tears started to erupt from her eyes.

Sherlock stared at Molly, unsure what to make of her emotional outburst, watching her run from the room he couldn't help but fell a small pang of guilt for making Molly react so dramatically. Sitting upright Sherlock ran his slim digits through his messy locks, sighing in frustration and following after Molly.

* * *

><p>Sherlock had stood outside Molly's bedroom door for the last 20 minutes contemplating what to do as he listened to the soft sniffles and ragged breaths coming from the other side of the bedroom door. Hearing her cries slowly subside, Sherlock quietly slide into the room and sat in front of her shaking form.<p>

"Shhhhhh shhhhh shhhhh" Sherlock soothed, running his fingertips over her side, as he'd seen John do many times with one of his disastrous dates.

"I'm so…sorr…sorry" Molly spluttered out.

Sherlock gave her a small reassuring smile and continued to gently run his hand up and down her body, having a strange urge in his chest to comfort and reassure the quivering pathologist.

"Molly…I didn't mean to upset you..no one saw me I am very good at lurking in the shadows…and you're not going to die" he said, his voice gaining a hard edge towards the end.

She nodded into her bed, before sitting up, rubbing the tears away from face with the back of her hand; she took several deep and steady breaths trying to calm herself down. Molly looked over at Sherlock who was staring intensely at her as he slow leaned forward.

"Molly I have been experiencing some strange feelings recently" Sherlock told her in his deep smooth voice as he gradually moved closer to the puffy eye brunette. "and I think I'm.."

**RINGGGGGGG! **

Which caused Sherlock to stop inches away from Molly's lips.

**RINGGGGGGG! **

Molly gulped staring at Sherlock's moist lips unable to move away from him.

**RINGGGGGGG!**

Another ring broke the trance between Molly and Sherlock; she looked toward the door for a brief second before moving off the bed.

"Stay here," she said rushing out of her bedroom.

* * *

><p>Molly charged downstairs and pulled her front door open, to reveal a shattered John.<p>

"Hey Molly….are you alright?" he asked, taking note of her red puffy eyes and ruffled appearance.

"I'm fine John..come in" she said stepping to the side as she invited him in.

Casting a nervous glance at the stair before ushering John into her living room "So John would you like you a drink" she offered pointing to a tray of drinks that had been rarely touched since her father died.

"Yes please, scotch"

Pouring him a large scotch, she handed him the tumbler before sitting down next to him "Are you okay?"

John shook his head sadly "I just can't believe his gone... he was my best friend you know" he said taking quick swig of scotch.

"I know John" she patted his arms, in a comforting way "I thought of him as a friend too, even if he didn't see it"

The former army doctor looked up at her with a knowing look in his eyes "He did Molly…I think he felt for you more than a friend" Molly looked across at him, confused at his statement.

John sighed and looked up at her with tired eyes "When I was looking after Sherlock, when he had that batch of flu…. Do you remember?" she nodded silently a small smile erupted on both their face remembering the over dramatic detective, who thought he was dying with some unknown tropical disease.

"Well when I walked in to give him so pills I um found him clutching one of your lab coats mumbling your name…and when I was trying to clean his room up I found him hiding the silk handkerchiefs you gave him for Christmas under his pillow" He said giving her a sheepish look.

Molly froze in shock, unable to process what John was telling her. A million questions flooded into her head. "Did Sherlock like her? Did he love her? Or did he just like the smell of her fruity scent and the aroma of death that seemed to linger on her clothes?"

She turn back to John and gave him a sad smile, trying her best not to show how insanely happy that piece of information made her. "John I'm pretty sure he didn't think of me like that…Sherlock was a great man … a genius but he wasn't very good with people or emotions I think you were the only one he ever let close to his heart" Molly said resting her hand on his shoulder as silent tear ran down his face.

He gulped down the rest of his drink, furious tears running down his face "I can't believe everyone thinks he a fraud….after all of the amazing thing he has done, all the lives he's saved and they've just turned their back on him… I'm ashamed even I doubted him for a second" he cried into her shoulder, letting Molly hug him to her tiny figure.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flicker of movement in the mirror she saw the curly haired detective hiding by the door, staring at her at John through the mirror. She quickly turned back to John not wanting him to become suspicious she carried on holding him for a while till he pulled away, rubbing the tears away from his face.

"But you never did…you always believed in him…Molly do he say anything to you the last time you saw him or do anything that was unusually?" he asked with pleading eyes.

Her chest felt tight and her palm became sweaty but she forced herself to calm down "No more than usual he just used some of the equipment and talk to me… then he text someone.. after that he seem to get sadder like he knew something was gonna happen" Molly said let a tear slip down her cheek as she remember the night he came to her asking for help.

"Molly I didn't mean to make you cry, I….I just thought you might know something" he said disappointedly before his face became hard again revealing the cool and calm soldier. "I know he's alive somewhere Molly, I know it! He's hidden, trying to catch the men behind it all, I just know it!"

"I know it too John…We will never know if it really was Sherlock, the skull and teeth were too badly damaged for identification and so where the hands" Molly told him, trying to give John a little bit of hope.

He nodded before standing up and passing the glass to her "Thank you Molly for listening….this has been more helpful than all those counselling sessions" he admitted, giving her a weak smile.

"That's okay John. I'll always be here if you want to talk" she said giving the stiff man a hug.

John nodded, walking to the front door followed closely by Molly "Thanks Molly" he muttered as he walked out into the cold night.

Closing the door behind John, Molly stood in middle of her hall staring at the kitchen doors where Sherlock had retreated to, taking a deep breath she marched towards the kitchen. Walking into the brightly light room, she found Sherlock sitting the table looking blankly at the fridge.

"Sherlock? Are you okay?" Molly asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I'm fine" he spoke in an ice-cold tone.

"Sherlock you're obviously not" she told him, hand on her hips.

"I'm just marvellous! My best friend thinks I'm dead and I can't comfort him! I haven't….." he looked up and her and frown, his eyes taking in her tense body and hard eyes as she wait for him to hurl abuse at her, sighing he stopped himself from going further

"I'm sorry" he said sinking down into the wooden chair.

She felt her heart break as she watched the man she loved and admired look so broken and sad. A small idea flickering in the back of her head to squeal loudly. Sherlock shot a glare at her and rolled his eyes muttering something that sounded like "Damn women".

A giggle escaped Molly's lips, before she suddenly ran out of the room and back up the stairs. She returned a few moments later dragging two large metal vanity cases and deposited them on the kitchen table in front of a curious Sherlock, who was watching her closely.

"This should put you in a better mood"

Molly pulled apart the cases revealing their contents. The first one contained various wigs and facial accessories; the second one was filled with an array of different make-ups and powders. Sherlock moved his gaze from Molly to the case then back to Molly again.

"I just remembered I had them. I got them back when I was in college when I was doing a bit of dramatics….I thought you could use them in your investigation so I won't have to worry about you…. And you can use them to keep an eye on John and Mrs Hudson," she said smiling sweetly at him.

A brilliant grin suddenly appeared on the gloomy detectives face, instantly lighting it up. He sat up in his chair, picked one of the wigs up and placed it onto the wooden manikin's head and began to style it. Molly smiled brightly at Sherlock as he busied himself as she often saw him at St Bart's while he analysing a vital piece of evidence.

Making her way up stairs she slipped into warm flannel pyjamas before burying herself under the plush duvet. Molly's mind wandered back to the moment she almost shared a kiss with Sherlock, she could feel herself smile as she remember the sight of his face coming closer the heat that, his eyes train on her lips. Snuggling into the warmth of the bedding she let her eyes flutter shut as she fell into a deep sleep dreaming of the tall dark detective.

**SO... what do you think? I would love your opinion so pleaseeeeee review and feel free to ask anything :)**

**PLEASE REVIEW and make my day :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Hey everyone

I'm sorry to say this isn't a chapter…. But I have a new chapter just waiting to be beta-ed

I am looking for a new beta to proof read and help improve my chapters, so if there's anyone willing to help please contact me.

And I promise to post the new chapter as soon as I have it beta-ed , and the next chapter is being written at this very moment.

Thanks I hope you all have a great weekend

Lily xoxoxo


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone, long time no see!**

**I'm really sorry I haven't update but I have been busy over doing exams and working over the summer and now I've just started college so think are kinda mad…anyway I should be able to update every couple of weeks but there gonna be a bit shorter the usual.**

**I own nothing!**

**Hope you enjoy….**

Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the old deserted factory as armed guards ran down the long corridor towards the faint sounds of sirens wailing outside. Sherlock hid behind a stony pillar in a narrow crevice, concealing himself from the sight of the guards and intently listening to the sound of their footsteps gradually grow distant. Peering out from his hidey hole to check that his surroundings were clear, he glided out from behind the pillar. He made his way carefully down the hall towards the end where a make-shift control room was fitted with computer monitors and various other devices.

Locking the flimsy door behind him, he sat down on the old warped chair and began typing frantically on one of the many keyboards, pulling up various files and programs that he needed. Removing a memory stick from his trousers pocket, he jammed it into the computer tower and waited for it to download.

Twirling round in the chair, he spotted crates of explosives and weapons. A wicked smirk appeared across his face as he grazed at the large wooden boxes. Quickly typing orders into the computer to lock the entrance door, he swiftly went about completing his new devious plan. Jimmying open the crate, he pushed the set detonator into soft doughy bars of C4 before one of the monitors caught his attention.

On the security camera feed, the burly arm guards were shouting and attacking the old metal door trying to get back into the warehouse. Sherlock moved to the control panel to unplug the memory stick. As he did so, he noticed a laptop hidden in a crack in the wall. Jerking it out to rest in front of him, he opened the chrome case and pulled up several documents; and felt his brains suddenly go into over drive. Files from all the Moriarty consultancies and contacts bombarded the screen; a loud crash awoke Sherlock from his discovery.

Looking up at the monitors, he saw the small group of guards flooding into the building with guns at the ready. Zipping up the laptop bag and securing it around his body, he moved back to the crates of explosives. After pushing the red button which started the 5 minute count down, Sherlock pulled down the grating over the air duct. Hoisting himself up through the narrow hole, he squeezed into the tunnels and quickly made his way towards outside.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The small group of scruffy men ran down the corridor they had run through 10 minutes ago. With their guns held up in front of them, they stormed into the dreary control room only to find it completely deserted.

"Where is the intruder? Find him NOW!" A worn grey haired man barked at the younger men.

Moving into the room, his eyes met the battered crate with the clock counting down steadily in big red letters. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Quickly backing out of the room, he twisted round to face his confused men. Shouting, "OUT, NOW!" he pulled the men in front of him. He began to run down the corridor and back down the crumbling staircase, followed closely by his men. Just as he reached the bottom step, his men were thrown in every direction by a brute force. Fire chased the remaining men still standing, down the narrow corridor that led to the outside. A final explosion pushed them to the gravelly floor with an almighty strength as the building burnt behind the unconscious men.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sherlock stood on a massive hill of gravel overlooking the factory. Watching the building erupt in explosions and fire engulf what remained of the warehouse, he eyed the unconscious men carefully as the sounds of sirens reached his ears. Sherlock could see the faint glow of the police cars in the distance. The sound of a helicopter alerted Sherlock that Mycroft's men were coming. Taking one more look at the now-bound men, he adjusted the laptop bag around his body and disappeared into the night in a flash of coat tails.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mycroft stepped out of the shiny jet-black helicopter and pulled his stiff trench coat tightly around him as he felt the cold air of the night. His slate-grey eyes took in the destruction of the dilapidated factory before his gaze fell upon a small group of restrained men kneeling on the floor. Looking around the large piece of land, his eyes caught the familiar swirl of blue material disappearing over a wall. Quickly glancing back at the men now being loaded into the back of an armoured van, he slid his phone out of his pocket and tapped rapidly onto the screen while climbing back into the helicopter.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x

The ticking from the clock echoed throughout the brightly lit morgue. Molly sat hunched over her desk, head resting on her hands, while she stared blankly at the wall in front of her. For the last 45 minutes she had been trying to get her paperwork done but her mind kept floating back to the moment when she and Sherlock almost kissed.

A few days had passed since then and she still found herself unable to focus on anything but the kiss. Every time she passed a man on the street that reminded her of Sherlock or even when she was working on her latest cadaver; she found her mind drifting back to the magical moment. She had tried to talk to Sherlock about it- hoping that he would belittle her and allow her to rid the memory from her mind, but for the last couple of days the curly haired detective had become very elusive and hard to talk to. She knew he was throwing himself into his work so he didn't have to deal with her, but sooner or later they would have to talk about it.

A small part of her brain warned her to not get too attached to Sherlock, given that he was tacitly dead and that he didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to relationships- not that she had either. She never could date more reliable men; no, she ended up dating an evil genius with her first major boyfriend ending up being a catastrophic disaster. Molly winced at the still painful memory, rubbing the side of her body as she remembered the excruciating pain that once pulsed through it.

One single tear slid partway down her cheek before being swept away by her hand. "_Grrr! I can't let him get to me anymore! ... I thought I moved past this,"_ Molly growled at herself before talking a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. "I need some fresh air... I'll go grab a coffee and something to eat, that should distract me from this mess."

Sliding her coat over a navy work dress that showed all of her curves, her feet shod in flesh-coloured pumps with one-inch heels; Molly wore a simple pearl necklace that Sherlock had picked out to go with her outfit before he went out on one of his day trips. Picking up her bag, Molly walked into the main part of the morgue. She was surprised to find Mycroft leaning on his umbrella while looking down at his watch.

"Ahhh, Miss Hooper, I was wondering if you would like to go to lunch with me...my treat," he asked, giving her a smile that reminded her so much of Sherlock's.

"Umm...yeah...I would love to," she said in a bright tone; in her mind she wasn't so cheery. _"Why, is he asking her on a date? No, of course not, his brother just died... although, he is a Holmes; they respond to emotion in a different way. Maybe he knows...ohhh god... Hmm no... why would he take me to dinner... something is not right" _She thought while following him cautiously out the morgue.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Molly followed Mycroft into a large stone building. Escorting her through a maze of corridors, he finally came to a stop in a small waiting room with various rooms leading off of it.

In the middle of it, a middle-aged man standing behind a wooden chest-high podium with a register on it seemed to notice their presence almost immediately. Looking up, he gave a strained smile. "Good afternoon Mr Holmes... the usual, sir?"

"Yes, thank you, Benton, although I have a guest joining me."

Benton moved to the side to catch a glance of Mycroft's guest. His eyes, perversely wandering along Molly's body caused her to shudder slightly in disgust, before he moved his attention back to Mycroft once again.

"Of course, sir; please follow me," he spoke. Walking toward one of the many doors, he led them into a medium size room with a set table in the middle of it. The room was dark and had a very gothic feeling to it, Molly noted, as she timidly followed the men to the table. Mycroft shoved his umbrella at the greasy man and pulled a chair out for Molly to slip into.

Benton handed them the menus, quickly making his way to the door under the watchful eye of Mycroft. They sat in silence until the waiter came back with his note pad in hand.

"What can I get you, sir?" note pad posed at the ready.

"Steak-rare, mixed salad-no celery, sauces in individual cups and grill the steak... and a glass of chilled red wine."

The waiter nodded and turned to Molly, "And your... guest?" he said, looking down his nose at her.

"Umm, I'd like the prawn cocktail salad and a glass of water, please" she said politely, while leaning back self-consciously into the padded leather seat.

The waiter nodded, scribbled down the order and then left.

Molly fiddled with the corner of the lace napkin as she fidgeted uneasy in the chair; she looked up shyly at Mycroft to see him staring at her and smiling, causing a nervous blush to grace her cheeks. The waiter came back with the drinks and placed them on the table before leaving, but not without a last glance to Molly.

"So, Molly," he said, lifting the glass to his lip to take a sip.

"How are you holding up?"

She looked up at him before giving a weak smile "I'm as fine as can be expected, what about you? It can't be easy for you to lose your brother."

A sigh escaped his mouth and he fell back against the seat. "Sherlock and I weren't close. We treated each other like enemies most of the time... I wish I had treated him better as a child; then maybe things wouldn't have gone the way they did," he confessed sadly, ghosting his thumb along the glass.

Molly smiled softly at the poor man in front of her. Remembering the way her sisters used to bully her when she was younger, she reached over and squeezed his arm.

"It's not your fault; that's how children are. You can't go around blaming yourself. I'm sure Sherlock knew how much you loved him," she said, giving him another squeeze before letting go of his arm.

Mycroft smiled warmly at her, a smile few rarely saw. "So, Molly, I want to ask you about Sherl..." Mycroft began to ask before he was cut off by his phone vibrating on the table.

Looking at his phone, Mycroft stood up and tucked his phone into his side pocket. "I will be back momentarily there's...some business I need to discuss. I'll be but a moment," he spoke, exiting the room.

Molly sat peacefully in the silence, her eyes wandering the room, taking in every beautiful detail in, and comparing it to the house she used to live in as a child. She was knocked out her rumination's by the door opening and Benton barging in carrying the food.

He set the food onto their respective places and turned to Molly, leaning across the table forcing her to press back into chair to distance herself from him.

"Why, aren't you a pretty little whore, so sexy in your little dress, you practically made me burst through my trouser when I saw you" he croaked, pulling a stray piece of her hair from behind her ear. "I bet you're good... Why don't you come with me after you've finished with Mr Twat and I'll show you how a real man's gonna rock your world" he breathed into her ear. Molly sat frigid in her seat, panicky tears welling up in her eyes.

Benson moved his face to her neck gradually getting closer, until his nose hit her skin, causing her to shudder in disgust. She tried pushing him away but he gripped her wrist with a bruising force. He opened his mouth to say something but footsteps where heard approaching. He bolted up and shot a warning glance at Molly warning her to keep her mouth shut, which caused her to gulp hard.

Mycroft entered and stopped as he saw Molly sitting stiff in her seat. He narrowed his eyes at the man and made his way over to sit back down.

"Mr Holmes, will there be anything else?"

He gave him a stiff, "No"; flapping his napkin over his lap before tucking into his meal. Benton smiled evilly before casting one last dark look at Molly before swiftly exiting the room. As soon as he was out, Mycroft picked up his phone and typed speedily on to the pad. He set his phone down and reached for his drink.

"I hope the company wasn't too...rude." Mycroft spoke softly; worry swimming in his eyes as he eyed the growing bruise on her on her wrists. Molly looked at him with deeply soulful eyes, making Mycroft reach out and brush his fingers against her hands.

Taking a deep breath, Molly gave Mycroft a small smile before tucking into her salad; for the rest of the meal they shared comfortable small talk, which made Molly forget all about her previous incident with the waiter.

Once they had finished their meal they walked back to the waiting room. Molly braced herself for her next meeting with the creepy waiter but was surprised to see the man was no longer there. He had been replaced with younger, brighter looking man with golden hair.

"Has the problem been fixed?" Mycroft asked in a steely commanding tone.

"Yes Mr Holmes it has been...sorted out," the man said, handing Mycroft his umbrella back.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx

Thoughts echoed around in Molly's head _"What does sorted out mean? OMG please don't let it be him lying somewhere bleeding to death….well he did deserve it he was a perv…wait I didn't not just think that, he doesn't deserve what happens to him, I really hope that they just kicked him to the curb_" she thought, frowning.

Mycroft walked Molly through the white sterile building to the morgue where a very angry supervisor was waiting.

Miranda Hart was a 40-something medical supervisor that had been appointed to Saint Bart's 6 months ago and ever since she had been making Molly's life a living hell. She had long straight brown hair, professional dyed; which she let hang loose around her shoulders, and wore provocative clothing which hung on her skinny body, trying to compete with every young attractive woman in the hospital. She had singled out Molly out the first day and used her power and snide remarks to control the once-shy Molly and make her life a misery, such as making her miss her best friend's birthday party and so many of her dates with various men to do the other's work, while she was off swanning around.

"Where in have you been? You're 30 minutes late..." she screeched with her hands on her hips before she stopped. Eyeing Molly up and down, she sneered at her new flattering appearance, before turning her attention to Mycroft.

"What the hell do you think you are wearing? What about those disgusting frumpy clothes you used to wear? What are you expecting to get with those clothes, hmmmmmm?" she said, every word dripping with disdain.

Miranda slowly stalked closer to Molly, an ugly sneer spread across her face "You will stop weari…" she stopped as she noticed Mycroft standing behind Molly.

"And you are?" she said, scrunching up her nasally face at Mycroft.

"Mycroft Holmes...Civil Servant, Miss Hooper here was helping me with my inquiries," he said, handing over his card and giving her an officious smile.

"Ohhhh.. I'm Sorry, I didn't know," she said, smiling gently at him and flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Well, I hope to talk to you later," she purred, try to give him a sexy look before turning to Molly. "And I don't expect you to be late again and if the daily reports aren't all in order, you will have me to answer to," she growled quietly at Molly, before stomping out the office but not before throwing a smirk over her shoulder and giving an extra swing from her bony hips.

Mycroft chuckled as he watched her leave. "Well, Miss Hooper, I will leave you to your work, I will see you sometime soon," and with that he turned on his heels and retreated from the morgue.

Molly sighed as the door shut with a depressing whoosh, eyeing the mountain of paper work on her desk; she dropped her bag at her side and fell into the seat with a thud.

She looked down at the paper work and frowned deeply at it. _"I wonder who my boss will dump all her unwanted work on when Moriarty or whoever realises I helped Sherlock. Hmmmm, at least I'll get a little satisfaction in my death knowing that ungrateful cow is gonna have to do all this work herself,"_ she thought as a wave of depression crashed over her, before digging into the mounting paper work.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxx

Sherlock lounged across Molly's couch in his famous blue coat and signature suit, both index fingers poised against his lips as the laptop he acquired from one of Moriarty's assassins beeped away, searching through thousands and thousands of files. His eyes were shut as he searched through his mind palace.

**The dark haired man walked through the large wooden entrance and deeper into his palace. He walked up the long winding staircase and into one of the many grand corridors. He kept walking until he came to a cold steel door, covered in chains and several locks, with a yellow crime scene tape across it.**

**Pulling the tape away violently, he gave a firm push against the stiff metal door until it slowly moved, revealing a large elegant room decorated in dark wooden furniture and heavy purple drapes. A fire roared and crackled at the end of the room where two oversized leather seats stood, and just in front of the fire stood Moriarty. He stood frozen with his hand in his pockets staring into the fire wearing his light grey suit he wore to court, and his hair gelled to the side. Sherlock strode into the room and to the book case and began searching though the hundreds of files stuffed messily into the book case; pulling the relevant files from the shelves, he tucked them securely under his arm.**

**Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of brown hair run past the door. "Wha…..what was that?" he stuttered, his brow furrowed in confusion. He blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head violently; walking to the door he saw the flash of hair turn the corner of the corridor. His eyes widened slightly as he dropped his files to the floor, then took off in a sprint after the phantom. **

**He followed the flash of hair until he came to a familiar corridor with 3 doors. Sherlock uncertainly walked to the worn door with 221 nailed to it just above the knocker, pushing it open. Climbing the stairs, he stopped just inside 221b Baker Street, seeing Mrs Hudson who stood frozen at the door of the kitchen behind John who was sitting in his chair with his laptop in his lap. Leaving 221B, he went to the next door to a room and looked through the glass, to see Lestrade at his desk his body fixed to the chair with his hand holding a mug part way to his mouth. Moving to the final door, he pulled it open harshly to reveal a magnificent office, containing Mycroft and Anthea sitting in chairs, Anthea with a an pen and paper in her hand and Mycroft with a Chocolate éclair in his hand. Sherlock slammed the door, growling to himself, and threw himself against the wall.**

"**My mind must be playing tricks on me…being without my cases must be numbing my mind…nothing in mind palaces move! There is only me here, I must be losing my mind." He sunk to the floor, his hands locked in his hair.**

**He looked up and did a double take. At the end of the corridor, a bright yellow door appeared with a shiny brass door knob. Sherlock slowly stood and curiously walked up to the door. He created all the rooms in mind palace but he hadn't created this room. Carefully twisting the door knob, he let the door fall open.**

**Sherlock moved deep inside the room and began observing. **_**"Room is divided into two sections. One side made to look like a lab, cold and steel. The other side is warmly decorated, furniture somewhat familiar. No case related with this room... hmmmm...and I did not create this, so how?" **_

**The door slammed shut behind him, causing the detective to stop his deduction. Swivelling round towards the door, he cocked his head at the door and slowly prowled toward it. Hearing a thud behind him, he twirled to come face to face with none other than Molly Hooper.**

**Molly smiled up at Sherlock; she was wearing a short black dress with shiny black stilettos, which was covered with her usual white lab coat. Sherlock scanned the Molly replica, before looking wildly around the room trying to find some reason for the new addition to his mind palace. He was too busy looking around the room; he didn't notice that Molly had moved closer to him. He turned his eyes back to Molly as she put her hands on his cheek and pulled him down to her lips.**

Sherlock bolted up from the couch, his eyes wide open and his mouth parted slightly in horror.

**Soooooo what do you think? Please review...pretty please :) **


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